


Lost in Translation

by 221butterbeers



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - British, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Berlin (City), Boys Kissing, British!Tony, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Card Games, Donuts, Field Trip, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, FrostIron - Freeform, German!Loki, German!Thor, Germany, High School, Holidays, Hot Chocolate, Humor, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, Loki Angst, M/M, MacDonalds, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Passive-Agressive!Bruce, Pizza, Protective Thor, School Trip, Snowball Fight, Swearing, Teenagers, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trains, doughnuts, man buns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221butterbeers/pseuds/221butterbeers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whilst on a residential trip to Berlin with his school, Tony meets Loki in the hotel both schools are staying at.<br/>What will bad translations and misunderstandings lead to? </p><p>BRITISH HIGH SCHOOL AU (I'm sorry, I don't understand America and its school system)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boys on Tour

“I still don’t see why you have to drop me off.” Tony yawned, begrudgingly getting into one of the many cars his father owned, “You’ve never dropped me off before.”

Howard sighed, “It is three in the morning. Do you really think someone else would want to drive you?”

Tony shrugged, turning on the heating, “Throw enough money at it and the problem goes away, doesn’t it?”

The car jolted into life and the two sat in silence during the ride to school. The car park was slowly filling up with parents' car, tire tracks just visible in the two centimetres of snow that had fallen and would surely cause havoc on un-gritted roads in the morning. Tony hopped out the car, immediately hauling his travel bag out of the boot before barely giving a salute in his father’s direction and stepping onto the coach.

“I would have thought you’d get your private jet to fly you.” Said Natasha, following Tony onto the school’s hired transport.

“School rules, Nat.” He smiled, “Apparently that would have caused _too_ much commotion.”

Natasha pushed past him, to the back of the coach, “Shame -- could have had some pre-trip drinks.” She slumped down in a seat on the back row, “You know the drinking age’s only sixteen over there, right?”

“That’s only for supposedly  _soft_ alcohols, like beer and wine.” It was Bruce, moving his case to his feet for Tony to sit next to him, “Spirits and shit are eighteen and over.”

Nat rolled her eyes, kicking her feet onto Tony’s lap, “You can still get drunk on them — and that rule only came in the other year, they’d still sell it us”

Bruce raised his eyebrows, “Sure thing, Romanov.”

 

* * *

 

As expected, the trip to the airport was a slow one and resulted in the group of twenty or so adolescents being herded through security by their respectably tired teachers. Once seated onto the plane — and after Bruce had complained about the leg room — Tony realised his early morning coffee had worn off.

Stifling a yawn, he said, “How long’s the flight?”

“Hour and a half or something…”

“Great.” Tony muttered, shuffling his feet onto his seat and resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder, “I can nap.”

“Say, Stark, D’ya think we can get food on here?” Natasha asked, also shoving her feet onto her chair and resting her head on Bruce’s other shoulder. 

“I don’t know, Nat. Ask Brucey, he’s the one used to commoners’ air-travel, not me.”

“Before you ask, yes.” Bruce answered, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you really have to sleep on me? What if I wanted a nap too?”

“You chose the middle seat.”

“Well, _technically_ he didn’t. I shotgunned the window seat and we all know what your bladder’s like, Tony.”

“My bladder’s perfectly capable.” Tony pouted, “And anyway, Banner, you can always rest your head on mine.”

“But if your head goes anywhere near mine, I will slit your throat.” Nat warned.

“No you won’t.” Bruce laughed, getting his book out of his bag.

“Wanna risk it?” Nat’s voice was deadly, but her eyes were closed, trying not to fall asleep.

“I’m good.” He replied, turned to his page and started reading.

 

* * *

 

They were in Berlin now, on one of the mini-busses to the hotel. Tony complaining about his neck, Bruce smirking because I _t’s your own fault for sleeping on me_ and Natasha threatening death if she didn’t get lunch in the next thirty seconds. Unfortunately, lunch didn’t arrive in that half a minute, only a glimpse of the Bundestag building and Berlin Hauptbahnhof, which incidentally seemed to be in walking distance of their place of residence for the next few days.The bus slowed to a halt and the three were soon lugging their bags into the hotel, following their class.

“I’m sure you know the drill,” Fury was saying, “no boys in girls’ rooms and visa versa. All students should be in their own rooms by half ten. Breakfast is at eight, if you don’t turn up on time, you won’t get fed. That all clear?”A chorus of muffled _Yes, sir_ s was thrown about the group. “Good. Right then, get into pairs — of the _same_ gender, Mr. Stark.” He added, as Tony went to grab Nat’s shoulder, “And we’ll give you your room keys.”

After being told to be back in the lobby in an hour, and in that hour they should head over to the train station to buy lunch, they were released into the relatively small sized world of the hotel and Hauptbahnhof opposite.

 

* * *

 

“Wait. No, Bruce maybe the card’s in the wrong way round.”

“Tony, stop fondling my hand, I’ve got this.”

“If you had got this, we would be in our room already.”

“If you weren’t breathing down my neck with your halitosis, I wouldn’t have to dunk your toothbrush down the toilet tonight.”

“I don’t have halitosis.”

The door clicked, and the two boys bundled into the room.

The room itself was typical of cheap, educational travel. Small floor space with barely enough room to dump your bags, a wardrobe with no doors and, taking up most of the room, an equally small, possibly flat-packed bunk-bed.  The boys took one look at each other before both shouting _I call top bunk!_ and scrambling up the ladder. Needless to say, Tony got what he wanted, at the expense of kicking Bruce in the face and subsequently ensuring that his toothbrush was definitely going down the toilet. 

The bathroom, also typical of cheap, educational travel was minute, but pleasantly clean and the shower even had shower gel occupying the shelf. 

They had just got settled on their beds: Tony about to kick off his boots, Bruce almost dozing, when a rather loud and obnoxious knocking came from their door. 

"Are we getting lunch or what?" Natasha's voice was slightly muffled by the door, but even so Tony hopped down from his bunk, dragging a sleepy Bruce with him.

"God, Natasha, it's as though you ain't had breakfast." 

"A-star observational skills, Stark. Do you know how long it takes to do winged eyeliner?" Natasha replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Come on, let's go — oof!"

Too interested at the prospect of food, she didn't acknowledge the door from the room across the hall opening, nor did Natasha notice a slender, dark haired figure leaving his room. The figure scowled at her, muttering something in German.  "Sorry - es tut mir leid!" Nat corrected, calling after the boy who was now rounding the corner to the lifts. A round of applause could be heard from Bruce and Tony, each lounging on the door frame. "Stop laughing. Both of you." She snapped, turning on her heel and stalking down the corridor to the lifts. 

**~ Liebe Gäste!**

**Der Aufzug ist außer Betrieb aufgrund von Wartungsarbeiten! ~**

"Anyone care to translate?" Tony said, peering at the sign tacked onto the lift. 

"Something to do with the lift," Bruce replied, moving Tony out of the way, "Aufzug, Tony. You know what that means." 

When there was no reply and a confused look on Tony's face, Nat added, "Aufzug - up train? Elevator. God, why did you even take this subject?"

"Because the beautiful-bae Brucey sounds sexy speaking German, that's why."

"You did not just say beautiful, bae and Brucey in the same sentence." Bruce face palmed.

"Did too." Tony replied, linking his arm round his in denial friend, "And I'll say it again if you don't continue with your translation."

"Der Aufzug ist kaputt." The drawling voice of the boy Natasha had walked into spoke, pointing at the sign, then making a snapping gesture with is hands. "Broken. Elevator broken."

The three looked round at him, seemingly forgetting he had headed to the lift before them. They stood there, not really knowing what to say — the past three years of German lessons fleeing their minds instantly. Oh, if only Mr. Fury could see them now. 

The boy was staring back, mind. His dark hair pulled into a knot. His face all angles with an unimpressed look about his cold features, albeit an eyebrow quirked in amusement. His hands slung in his thick winter coat's pockets and a scarf tied around his neck. 

Tony went to say thanks - _Dankeschön_ , he corrected — but a blond male, even taller than the other, opened the door to the stairwell. 

"Loki." He barked, waving at the other to hurry up.

The darker haired boy — Loki? — sighed to himself, following the taller, bulkier one. 

Bruce, Tony and Natasha continued to stand there for a moment before Natasha's stomach gurgled, reminding the others of their need for lunch. 

 

* * *

 

Lunch, a pleasant yet terrifying experience of more slight memory lost and handing over the wrong euros: _No, Tony, you can't pay with a hundred note! - Käse means cheese, right Bruce? - Sorry! I thought a hundred euros was equal to a pound, Nat! - What about Wasser? What does that mean again?_ But, all the while, they ended back at the hotel lobby on time and with full stomachs. 

"You all have your hats, scarves and gloves? Good, because we're going on a walking tour and it is cold. I don't want any complaining from you if you weren't prepared in the first place." Fury's voice boomed over the crowd of teens huddled in the hotel's lobby, "Now, if you'd all follow Mr. Coulson — we have to walk to where our tour starts."

They met the tour guide at Brandenburg Gate, where they discovered this was a shared tour with another school. Unfortunately, said school was German, meaning that poor Tony didn’t have a clue at what the tour guide was saying half of the time and, after getting his headphones confiscated for the rest of the tour, he decided to ask Bruce what was going on.

Apparently they were standing in the middle of Wilhelmstraße, in the road, next to the British Embassy, and apparently this part of the road had been blocked off — _well that explains the bollards, doesn’t it?_ But Tony had lost interest at this point, deciding it would be funnier to see how many times he could poke Natasha until she punched him. Turns out it was three.

“Will you behave?” She hissed.

“Fury took my headphones.” Tony replied, as though that was an answer.

“Tragic.”

“Truly is… So, who’d you get saddled with to share a room?”

“Jane — is that a problem?” Nat replied, looking over Tony’s shoulder, “That’s the guy from the lifts isn’t it?”

Tony turned round, “You mean the guy you brutally ran over?”

Nat flicked him, “He’s staring…”

“Flip him off then.”

“Will you guys shut up?” Bruce muttered, “I can’t hear the tour guide.”

“How do you understand what he’s saying anyway?” The others asked.

“I don’t. I’m making educated guesses.”

“So you mean this isn’t the British Embassy?” Tony gasped, placing a hand to his forehead.

“No, it’s the building dedicated to shoving all of Tony Stark’s belongings down his throat if he doesn’t behave in the next three seconds.”

Tony held his hands up defensively while Natasha snorted, “No, seriously, he’s staring and it’s creeping me out.”

“Bruce, you're the educated one in the art of Germanic linguistics, sort him out.” Tony waved his hand dismissively in Loki’s direction.

Bruce glared at his stupidly spoken friend, who really _should_ have taken his advice at not trying to grow facial hair at sixteen and said: “He’s only staring at Billionaire-Boy, there’s no need to worry.”

Tony’s face paled, “At me? Why’s he staring at me? Do I have something in my hair? Be honest with me, Brucey, is my moustache really _that_ horrendous?”

Bruce and Natasha rolled their eyes, “You already know my feelings towards your facial grooming and I don't know why he’s staring at you. You’re really not much to stare at.”

“Crush my heart, my love.”

“Already have, my dear one.”

“Okay… He’s stopped staring and now he’s talking to the blond guy and… Now they’re both staring?” Natasha commentated.

“Bruce! What do we do? Wise and almighty Bruce, please show us what to do!”

Bruce looked between Tony and Natasha and the two staring at them, “Firstly, when we get back to the hotel, we flush Mr. Stark’s iPod down the toilet. Second of all, we act like we haven’t noticed them staring and hope they stop, like the scared and uncomfortable teenagers we are. All of those in agreement say ‘I’”

“I — would agree to that but I’m rather fond of my iPod.” Tony looked round at the two still looking at them, “Why don’t we just stare them down?”

“Because, as Bruce said, we are scared and uncomfortable teenagers, not to mention the fact we are in a different country and they look scary.” Natasha reasoned.

“They both have man buns. How is _that_ scary?-“

“Tony, is something wrong?” Mr. Coulson, the teaching assistant, asked.

“Nothing at all, sir, it’s just Bruce is threatening to flush my iPod down the toilet.”

“Of course he is. Just pay attention to the tour, please.”

“Why do teachers always think I'm lying?” Tony complained under his breath after Coulson had turned back round.

“Because you usually are.” Nat and Bruce answered.

“It was a rhetorical question.” Tony crossed his arms. “Okay, I’m getting sick of this now.” He jerked his arm at the pair they had seen by the elevators, now talking to themselves.

“They’re not staring anymore, Tony.”

“Yeah, but they’re talking ‘bout us.”

“You’re being irrational — oh, sod it! Tony, get back here!” Bruce moaned, watching his headstrong friend march over to the pair of teenagers no longer staring at them.

In all honesty, Tony really hadn’t though this through. There was only a couple paces separating the two groups and he could hear his friends’ embarrassment for him. He couldn’t just turn back round, now could he? He’d look stupid and Tony Stark doesn’t do stupid, despite his facial hair suggesting otherwise.

“You got a problem?” He said, immediately regretting it as he realised they probably didn’t speak much English.

The pair looked at him, bemused at the spunky kid with too much gel in his hair, “Wie Bitte?” The dark-haired one asked.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I said do-you-have-a-problem?” Tony turned round to look at Bruce and Natasha, laughing slightly and pointing at the two as if to say, _Can you believe them?_ As he turned back, however, the taller of the pair was towering over him, looking down at Tony as though he was a piece of scum. Tony’s eyes widened, “Hey - h-ey! Woah there, _personal space!"_

And then Natasha was there, pulling Tony back, whilst the two Germans looked at them with disbelief on their faces.

“Es tut mir leid. Er ist doof.” Bruce apologised, gesturing to Tony, who gave a weak smile and a shrug.

Off to the side and instantly ignored, Tony asked Nat what Bruce was saying, infinitely wishing he had payed attention in class, “He’s called you stupid, apologised for your fuck-up and now he’s trying to ask why they were staring at us — probably.” She replied.

“I’m not stupid. I just make bad decisions, is all.” Tony defended.

“If only that was all.” Nat shook her head, looking back over where Bruce seemed to be pulling off a conversation flawlessly.

Bruce and the blond were laughing. The dark haired boy looking slightly uncomfortable with a rouge present on his face not from the cold, whist the taller one clapped him on the back. They waved at Bruce as he walked back to Tony and Nat, who looked at him as if to say, _spill the beans then_.

Bruce held up his hands, “They’re brothers. The older one, Thor, apologises for getting into Tony’s personal space and Loki, the one Natasha murderously knocked over-“ 

“-I didn’t knock him over!”

“-and Loki thinks Tony’s cute. That’s why he was staring.” Bruce finished, ignoring the interruption.

Tony’s mouth opened to say something, but for once he found himself speechless. He looked round at Loki and his brother, who were now all too interested in the tour guide, asking questions and nodding when appropriate. “…He thinks that _I’m_ cute?” He spluttered, looking back at Bruce for clarification.

“Well, at least I think that’s what niedlich means.” Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose, “Can’t guess why he’d think _that_ — I mean, look at you with your _you_ -ness and hair in places it _shouldn’t_ be.”

Tony placed his palm over his heart, “I am hurt, Brucey my darling. I shall seduce you into bed with me yet.”

“Your toothbrush is _so_ making a trip down the loo.”

“Guys, I hate to break up your passive-aggressive domestic argument, but you’re going to get left behind if you don’t start moving.” Natasha called over her shoulder. The groups had walked to the end of the street unnoticed by the pair of nitwits.

The boys ran after them: Tony trying to kick Bruce in the shins and Bruce tugging on Tony’s scarf, slightly choking him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor are German and I'm not even going to try and say my language skills are perfect. They're really not, so I apologise for any mistakes in my Deutsch.
> 
> I came up with this idea a while ago and it's been messing about in my head, causing havoc and generally being a nuisance. Funnily enough, it came to me while on my school's German trip and the hotel we stayed in was next to the train station, Berlin Hauptbahnhof.  
> The sign on the elevator was actually on the lift in our hotel -- we had to walk up four flights of stairs. I took a picture of it because I thought I could use it in my school work, but it's ended up in fanfiction instead. Oh well. The sign had a translation under it, 'Dear guests! The elevator is out of order due to maintenance work!' if anyone was wondering...
> 
> Anywho, thank you for reading. I'm sorry this was terrible, but kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> And if you want, you can find me on eye-cannot-see.tumblr.com where I'm normally re-blogging text posts and complaining about school work :)


	2. A Rooftop Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot chocolate, balancing acts, MacDonald's and translations.

 

Overall, the walking tour of Berlin was a mild success. Okay, so his feet were throbbing, he was frozen to the core and he was pretty sure this hot chocolate was over priced, but Tony was happily warming back up in the corner of a café, sitting with Bruce, Natasha and Jane and maybe, just maybe, staring a little too much at the raven-haired teen who was currently smirking and wiping whipped-cream from his top lip.

“You know…” Jane whispered to Tony, neither really paying attention to what Bruce and Nat were discussing, “If you keep looking at him, the others are bound to notice and then you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Mmm, I know that.” Tony replied, peeling his gaze from Loki and looking at Jane, “That doesn’t stop you from looking at his brother.”

“They’re brothers?” Jane looked back over, sipping her drink, “How d’you know that?”

“Bruce.” Tony waved his had at his bespectacled friend.

Bruce looked over at the sound of his name, wiping a hand across his mouth, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, babe.” Tony said, “Me and the lovely Jane were just talking about how wise and sexy you are-“

“Mainly your wiseness.” Jane interjected.

“As I was saying, your wiseness outshines the likes of me and dearest Jane here. Sure, we’ve got plenty of smarts between us, but I don’t use mine and Jane has the type of smarts that creep up on you and whack you in the face when you’re least expecting it. Kind of like Natasha and that time she round-house-kicked you upside the face.” Tony paused to sip his drink, “However, tracing back a little, your sexiness doesn't come close to the likes of me, for I outshine all of you.”

“You really like the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Natasha smirked.

"Of course, somebody has to and, even though it crumples my heart and all my noble intentions to say so, I don't think Bruce is capable of loving my dulcet tones."

"Not even your mother is capable of loving that foghorn you call your mouth." Bruce added, knocking Tony with his shoulder. 

"You have hurt me, Banner."

"I try to."

"I think this calls for a Make It Up To Tony Selfie."

"It really doesn't."

"Too late." Tony already had his phone's camera up and Nat and Jane were squishing into the frame. With a slobbery kiss planted onto a distressed Bruce's cheek, Tony hit the shutter button, capturing the group of idiots for all eternity or at least until Bruce deleted the picture. 

"I hate you all." Bruce whined, wiping Tony's spittle from his face, "Especially you, Foster. I thought you were better than the likes of them."

"It's scientifically proven selfies help boost self-esteem; I was merely helping Tony feel better about himself after you so maliciously put him down."  

"Ha! Romanov! You kissed him too!" Tony laughed, looking at the photo.

"I feel like a common whore." Bruce uttered behind his mug, draining the last of the overpriced beverage.

"I think you'd find you are." Natasha uttered, leaning over Bruce to look at the phone's screen, "Oh, Lordy, Tony. You do know cheek kisses don't include tongues, right?"

"I blame my traumatised upbringing." Tony reasoned, "Never got cheek kisses so I am at a lost at how to preform them correctly."

"You're a prick."

"Very true."

 

 

* * *

 

The journey back to the hotel was traumatising for the other occupants of the train the two school groups ended up on. Natasha had challenged Tony to a 'friendly' game of train surfing, in which each competitor stood in the gangway and tried not to fall over as the train made its journey. It was going all right, that was until the train made its first stop. Tony flew sideways, knocking into passengers and muttering profound apologies, then realising he should have spoken in German. Bruce was doubled over laughing — a bit of an over reaction, Tony thought, but, nevertheless, the train had started moving again and he was determined to beat Natasha this time.

Nat folded her arms across her chest, a smug grin plastered over her face, "You might as well give in now, Stark. If you hadn’t noticed, you have the balance of a newborn foal.”

Tony flipped her the Vs before saying, “Now that may be true, but like a newborn foal I’ll quickly gain more balance.”

“You did not just compare yourself to a baby horse.” Jane moaned, “Man, I’ve really chosen the loser group to hang around with on this trip.”

“Well, Nat was the first one to make the comparison, Foster. Not me. So, really she’s the loser… But I’m going to take that statement back because she’s glaring at me with her stare of death and I’d rather like to keep my life, thank you very much.” Tony blurted out the last of that sentence, gaining another smirk from Natasha.

“Do any of youse know what we’re doing about dinner tonight?” Bruce asked, mid yawn, “I think Fury said we’d be allowed over the station because the food’s not great at the hotel?”

“I think you’ve just answered your own question, Bruc-EY!” The train came to a halt, once again throwing Tony into — well more like onto the lap of — a passenger. “Er… Hi?” He coughed, looking up at person who’s lap he was invading.

“Hallo.” Loki replied, another blush flushing his face.

“Right… I should, um… go?” Tony grinned awkwardly, pointing in the direction of his friends. Loki bit his lip, nodding quick and shortly.

Thor muttered something Tony didn’t understand, however it caused Loki to snap his head in his brother’s direction and mutter something furiously back. Bruce had made his way over now and was hauling Tony from the slighter boy’s lap by his arms, mumbling _Es tut mir leid_ once again to the brothers who had seemed to have forgotten about the whole train surfing escapade, having a rather heated spat of words in a language beyond even Bruce’s knowledge.

Safely and securely on the seat Bruce had been sitting in and under orders to never play train surfing ever again, Tony asked, “Is it my fault they’re arguing?”

The other’s looked over at the brothers, now faced away from each other. Loki murderously looking out the window, down at rush-hour Berlin, Thor talking to someone next to him, the poor soul trying to calm him down. Tony was looking at them worriedly, trying to catch the youngest brother’s attention, guilt written on his face.

“Of course it wasn’t your fault, Tony.” It was Jane, placing a hand onto his shoulder.

The others made a mumble of agreement and Tony spoke again: “Sure feels like it, mind.” He looked at Bruce, “D’ya think we should ask him if he wants to get dinner with us?”

Bruce took off his glasses, wiping the lenses with his scarf, “I think,” he spoke, “that we should stay out of it. I think we’ve interfered enough today already.”

Tony nodded as the train pulled into the station, thankful for the seat and not falling into anyone. As they walked off the train, Tony placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder, smiling apologetically. Loki smiled weakly back and then Tony was gone, running to catch up with Bruce and the others.

 

 

* * *

 

“I still think we should have gotten curry wurst.” Bruce complained, digging into his fries. 

"Brucey, I believe you are forgetting we are sleep deprived children surrounded by fast-food restaurants. Now, allow me my calorific Maccy-Ds.” Tony replied, taking a bite of his cheeseburger, "Seeing as you made me order it by myself and I'm pretty sure I sold my firstborn son in that transaction."

"You're unbelievable, both of you." Natasha said, sipping her drink, "Just be happy we have food and after we've eaten we can go back to the hotel and _sleep_."

"You can sleep," Bruce said, "I'm going to start on the diary thing."

The others moaned, "Really? It's the first day of the trip and you want to do the work?"

"Well, I don't want to get behind with it all — and anyway, it'll only take half an hour."

"Did you guys," Tony said, swallowing another mouthful of food, "see the pool table downstairs? I think I'm going to play pool."

"And stare your arse off at Loki." Nat commented, "Oh, c’mon! It's not like you were subtle or anything." She added after Tony gave her a confused look.

He glared at Jane, who looked sheepishly back at him, "Okay, fine I told her! But only after you had fallen on him!"

"Remind me never to trust you with anything ever again, Foster." Tony moped, shoving the rest of his burger in his gob. "And I wasn't the only one staring-"

"Swallow before you finish that sentence. For the love of God, I don't want to see processed meat being masticated by your little whore mouth." 

"Bruce, that is no way to speak to your husband! I just sold our firstborn son if you don’t remember." Tony protested, still chewing, “Anyway,” he swallowed, “I wasn’t the only one staring.  _Jane_ was ogling at Thor, all heart-eyes and fit to marry him.”

Jane blushed, thinking it easier not to speak. From what she’d discovered during school and already on this trip was that Bruce and Natasha never really take Tony seriously, surely ignoring the situation would cause them to forget it?

She was right, for Bruce had butted into the conversation now, “Wait, wait, wait. _Tony_ was _staring_ at _Loki_?”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Yes, we’ve gathered that.”

Bruce leant his head back, groaning, “This won’t come to anything good.”

"Don’t be so pessimistic, Banner. We’re supposed to support our friend in whatever stupid decision takes his fancy.”

“No ‘stupid decision’ has taken my fancy. I would like that to be put on the record.” Tony uttered, trying to get his friends to stop.

“Sorry, we’re wiping it from the record on the account of you were _staring_ at _Loki_ after getting so wound up at him _staring_ at _you_.” Bruce reasoned.

“Can we please stop talking about Loki, _please_?!” Tony implored.

“No, this is quite funny. I think we should carry on talking about _Loki_.” Nat simpered, taking the lid off her milkshake and dipping her fries in it.

“One: that’s disgusting. Two: why don’t you want to talk about _Loki_? You did _fall_ love-struck into his _lap_ on the train.” Bruce added, frowning on Natasha’s eating habits.

“I was brutally pushed by the force of gravity onto him. Risk of playing the train game, Bruce, you should know that. Now can we _please_ shut up about him!”

“You know, putting emphasis on please makes us talk about him — oh, _I see_.” Natasha grinned, devilishly, “You don't want to talk about _Loki_ , because _Loki_ is only over _there_ with _Thor_ eating dinner.” She had stood up, pointing across the table to the other side of the restaurant.

“Would you stop talkin’ so loudly, you utter arse.” Tony grumbled, hunching his body over his fries and trying to hide a blush threatening to escape onto his cheeks, “And for Christ’s sake: _sit down!_ ”

“So, Bruce…” Jane said, sensing tension brewing in the group, “What did you think of the walking tour?”

“Uh, yeah I thought it was cool.” Bruce went along with it, thankful for the change in subject.

Natasha and Tony ate the rest of their meals in silence, both just happy to listen to Jane talk about silly facts and to Bruce stating his opinion on said facts.

 

* * *

 

“How would you say, ‘I got up at three’?” Bruce asked.

The boys were back in their room, after a futile round of pool involving gross cheating and mass tactics to ensure Jane and Tony won. Bruce was on his bunk, just starting the diary assignment Mr. Fury had set for the trip. They had to document what they did each day in German, add opinions and say whether they’d do it again.

“Ich bin um drei Uhr abgestanden…?” Tony answered, running a thumb and forefinger over his moustache, looking in the mirror on the bathroom wall, “Do you really think my ‘stache and beard are terrible?"

Bruce jotted down the German before speaking, “I wouldn’t say it’s terrible,” He sighed, “but I don’t think it suits you at the moment. Try again in five years — I’m sure you’ll look ravishing.”

Tony chuckled to himself, walking out the bathroom and pulling his jeans off, “Thanks, babe. What about if I just keep it for five years and you have to get used to it?”

“That works too.” Bruce laughed. Stretching, Tony dumped his trousers on top of his suitcase, “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Mm, lemme finish this and I’ll switch the light off.” Tony had one foot on the first rung of the bunk bed’s ladder when-

“D’you hear that?” He asked, looking at the door; it sounded like shouting. The shouting grew louder as Tony made his way over to their room’s door. There were two voices, distinctively German. The first sounded harsh and although Tony couldn’t understand them, he felt bad for the person on the receiving end.

“D’ya think it’s them?” It was Bruce’s turn to ask questions now. 

Tony shrugged. The shouting stopped, replaced by the distinctive click of a door opening and then the clap of if being slammed shut. Tony, on the inkling that it was actually _them_ arguing and still feeling bad about the whole ‘falling love-struck in to Loki's lap,’ thing, as Bruce had put it, opened the door to their room, hoping to catch a glance at who had slammed the door. 

It was them arguing. Loki was standing in the hall between the two rooms, facing Tony with his knuckle raised as though he was about to knock on the door. However, he had moved his arm back to his side so quickly, Tony wondered whether or not he had imagined it. Loki turned immediately, stalking off to the stairwell. 

Not really thinking, Tony pulled on his trainers, grabbed his coat and called, "I'm going to the toilet!" Before turning out the of room, also slamming the door.

"We have a toilet!" Bruce called after him, smiling to himself at how blatantly stupid Tony could be. 

There really was only one place Tony thought Loki could be, since there was a rule that you couldn't be in the lobby after half ten unless you were just passing through. That in mind, he climbed the stairs to the roof terrace, trying to remember how to _ask are you okay?_

Eight flights of stairs later, Tony was opening the door onto the roof, pulling his coat tighter around him. The night air was brisk and bitterly cold; he could feel goosebumps forming on his bare legs, now remembering he had only been in his tee, socks and underwear before fleeing the room. The roof was damp, traces of partially melted snow clumped onto the picnic table and benches. By the wall stood Loki, forearms resting on the concrete surface, looking over at the view of Berlin by night. It was quite a view, Tony had to say. The street lamps lining the road in front of Berlin Hauptbahnhof and lights along the bridge connecting this side of the river to the side where the Bundestag Building was illuminating the darkness, making the black of night more brown. If he looked closely he could have probably seen the dome of the Bundestag Building lit up, but he was more occupied with Loki, with his slightly shuddering shoulders making their way up and down as he breathed in and out.

"Bist du in Ordnung?” Tony asked tentatively, not really sure if that was correct German.

Loki turned around, nodding his head slightly, “Ja, ja. Es geht mir gut.” He sniffed, quickly wiping his face, “Mir gehts gut.”

Tony nodded, trying to work out what the other had said. He stood next to him, looking down at the city below, “Schön.” He uttered.

Loki nodded again, making a guttural noise of agreement.

They stood there silently, listening to the city below, Loki sniffing occasionally and the cold setting Tony’s legs to ice. Then it dawned on him: yes, his language skills may be limited, but he had an idea. Fishing out his phone from his pocket, he poked Loki to get his attention. Tony unlocked the mobile, opening a prototype app he had been developing, “Jarvis,” he said, “translate, ‘what’s wrong?’ into German.”

A few seconds later the German translation appeared on the screen. Tony showed it to Loki, quite pleased with his idea, that was until Loki started to reply in German.

“Wait, wait.” Tony held up his hand, pausing Loki, while changing the settings on the app. “Okay, go.”

Loki’s answered appeared on the screen: _nothing, don’t worry. It’s just my brother. It’s fine._ Tony looked at him, not believing, ‘It’s fine,’ for a second. Loki spoke again, Jarvis translating almost instantly: _he just doesn’t like you and I’m not sure why I got angry with him, but it’s fine. It really is fine. I’ll be fine._

“If you’re sure.” Tony replied, the German appearing on the screen again, “You can talk to me if you need to, okay?”

Loki smiled, nodding again “Wie heißt du?”

Tony didn’t need that translated, “Ich heiße Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, my German isn't perfect so don't hold me to it (also any corrections are appreciated).
> 
> This chapter was actually finished a lot quicker than I thought it would be, which is always a good thing.  
> I've been kind of sceptical about the characterisation of the characters...? I know it's an AU so I guess they don't have to be /perfect/, but I'm only now realising how britishized I've made them. Eh, what can you do.  
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. I have some exams coming up that I should really start revising for, but I try to write as much as I can. Hell, I even write on the bus to school.  
> Anywho, thanks so much for reading! Letting me know what you thought of this chapter is always cool (so are kudos, you feel?)


	3. Early Risers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast, tangled headphones and more trains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little bit of talk about WW2 towards the end of this chapter, so just a heads up if you're not too keen on that.

Nat and Jane were the last ones down for breakfast and the dining room was filled to the brim with bed-headed tourists, school groups and an occasional businessperson. 

"Sleep well?" Bruce asked, pushing the two extra coffees he and Tony had made over to the girls. 

"The room was sweltering." Nat said, sipping her drink gratefully. 

"I didn't think so." Jane replied. "Yeah, but you weren't on the top bunk."

"I agree with Natasha, it was burning on the top bunk." Tony added. 

"What did you expect? Heat rises." Bruce explained, standing up from the booth they were occupying, "Well, I'm going to see what there is for Frühstück, anyone care to join me?"

"For what?"

"Breakfast, Tony."

  The breakfast spread in the hotel seemed to confuse the four intrepid teens — it was probably the sight of all those cold meats and cheese slices that did it. But after the initial, _Oh my gosh where's the jam?_ panic, the four slid back to their table, examining what each other had acquired. Nat and Bruce, having followed each other round the mountain of bread rolls, had both ended up making DIY cheese sandwiches, Jane, being sensible, had noticed the industrial toaster and made herself a slice, now drenching it in raspberry jam and Tony, taking what he thought was the safe option, had made himself a bowl of cornflakes. However, he found himself grimacing as he took his first spoonful. 

"Pass the sugar, sugar daddy." He said, scraping his tongue with his spoon.

"What did you call me?" Bruce asked, raising his eyebrows at his friend who looked as though he'd just rolled out of bed.

"Sugar daddy. Now can you pass me the sugar?" Tony replied undeterred by Bruce's hesitation to the nickname.

Bruce passed the sugar, uttering, "I know I'm pretty lax about nicknames, but that really takes the biscuit. Please reframe from calling me that in future."  

"Sure thing, sugar tits." 

"That too." Tony huffed, opening enough packets of sugar to fuel a small armed vehicle and began drowning his bowl of cornflakes.

“Do you want your teeth to fall out?” Natasha asked.

“I get enough pocket money each week I could very easily afford to buy someone’s teeth, have then pulled out and fitted in to my mouth at least five times over, Tasha.” The heir to Stark Industries answered, putting a very sweet spoonful of cereal in his mouth, “And anyway, these crummy cornflakes have the consistency of cardboard.”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Like your personality then?”

“Yes — just like that.”

“Not meaning to interrupt your friendly banter or anything,” Bruce said, “but the man bun tribute band is walking over to us.”

The others turned their gaze: Jane peering through the gap between Nat and Tony’s heads, Natasha turning, none too subtly to stare down the two brothers, and Tony focusing far too much on his spoon.

“Hallo, Tony.” Loki greeted.

“Mornin’” Tony replied, his mouth full of cornflakes and sugar.

Loki motioned between Thor and Tony, insinuating something and creating puzzled faces on the others’ faces.

Thor cleared his throat, “Er — I am sorry for…” He hesitated, probably trying to think of the word, “For being angry with you…” He looked at his brother, who nodded at him to continue, “And being angry with Loki. I was stupid. I am sorry.”

Tony nodded slowly, not sure what was going on and not sure whether he should reply in German or English, “Okay… Thank you — Dankeschön. Es ist in Ordnung. It’s okay.”

Loki grinned, “Toll. Tschüss, Tony.”

Tony waved the two off, currently confused by the whole episode. Turning to look at his friends, he found that they were just as, if not more, stumped by the two Germans as he was.

“What exactly happened between you and him last night? You never did get round to telling me.” Bruce wondered.

“Wait — _what_?” The girls’ confusion switched to disbelief. They stared quizzically at Tony before looking back at Bruce, wanting answers.

“He ran after him in his underwear.” Bruce waved his hand dismissively to them, as though it didn’t really matter.

Surprisingly, this just caused Natasha and Jane's expressions to become even more shocked, "Tony, allow your voice to explain. Now."

"Firstly: it's not as kinky as the bane of my life has made it out to be-"

"Bane of your life? Sure I was your husband or something yesterday." Bruce interrupted, gaining a kick in the shin from Nat.

"Babe, shh. You can still be my husband and my bane of existence too. _Anyway_ , I was performing my nightly strip tease for the love of my life, slash, bane of my life, Brucey darling."

"I would just like to clarify he was getting ready for bed, not showcasing his body for my pleasure." 

"Bruce! Stop cutting in!" Tony flicked him, "Right, so _anyway_ — again. I was getting ready for bed whilst Bruce was asking me questions about the German work."

"Abgestanden means got stale not got up, just FYI"

"Bruce, I swear to Christ I gag you so hard you will need reconstructive surgery-"

"And you said this wasn't a kinky story.”

Tony decided to ignore Bruce from now on, desperate just to finish his story, “So, Bruce was doing the work and I was getting ready for bed, hence the underwear, and that’s when we heard shouting from across the hall. I decided to check it out-“

“Like the nosy bastard you are.”

“Excuse you, my parents were married — because we heard the door slam, right, and Loki was there, right, and he looked kinda shaken up. Then he ran off and I threw my coat and shoes on and ran after him to the roof — since I’m a compassionate person, right.”

“More like you wanna shove your tongue down his throat.” Bruce commented, “Oh, c’mon, Anthony, we all know what you’re like.”

“I am hurt, Brucey. You know all my advances on you are just playful banter.” Tony mockingly held a hand over his heart, “So, we’re on the roof — me and Loki — and I’m pretty sure he was, slash, had been crying and we talked for a bit. I think I cheered him up, I don't know. Yeah, then we went back down and that’s that.”

It took Jane, Bruce and Nat a moment to comprehend what Tony had explained, after that they all shrugged and went back to their breakfasts.

The sound of chewing and the lack of acknowledgement felt by Tony eventually got too much for him, “Really?” He said hotly, “I spent all that time reliving a tale of woe and heroism and all I get was a shrug? Not even a ‘That’s nice of you, Tony! Wow, you’re so thoughtful and kind, Tony!’?”

“That’s real swell of you, Tony.” Nat said, not looking up from her cheese sandwich.

“Wow, you’re so considerate, Tony.” Jane replied, voice drenched in sarcasm.

“Seems that Tony Stark _does_ have a heart.” Bruce added.

“I hate all of you fuckers.” Tony stood up, pushing his bowl towards Bruce, “You can put my now soggy bowl of slop and sugar in the wash.”

“Someone’s grouchy.” Natasha mumbled as Tony left the dining hall.

 

* * *

 

In all honestly, Tony hadn’t really been thinking that clearly when he had left the others to their breakfasting. Too caught up in the lack of appreciation of what had happened, he had walked back up to his and Bruce’s room, only now aware of the fact he didn’t have the key card. And now, too strung up on pride and the unwillingness to admit he may have over reacted, he slumped down to the floor, resting the back of his head on the door. He got out his phone, shoving his headphones into the port and sighing when he realised they were a tangled mess of disappointment. He laughed at the irony of his headphones metaphor — why did he get like this? He would be fine one minute then something minuscule would happen and he'd sulk. He sighed again, placing the now untangled headphones into his ears, blasting out the first thing on his shuffled playlist. 

A few songs later, the door across the hall opened, "Tony?" Loki looked down at him, amused.

 Unhooking a headphone, Tony replied, "Mmm?" "Du hast gesungen."   

"What?" He paused the song, taking out the other in-ear speaker.

Loki shook his head, smiling, "You were singing."

"Oh..." Tony scratched the back of his neck, "So, you do speak English?"

Smirking, Loki held his thumb and index finger an inch apart, “Ein bißchen.”

Also smirking, Tony opened up his translation app, “Jarvis, how would you say, ‘How’s you and Thor?’ in German? Thor is the name of someone, by the way.”

The translation popped up on the screen in seconds, as did Loki’s reply: _We’re good. It’s just a bit of sibling feuding — nothing threatening._ Tony nodded, and Loki spoke again, _Why are you out here?_

Tony shrugged, “Forgot the key. Bruce is downstairs.” Loki turned to go back into his room, signally Tony to follow, _Come on then. You can’t stay out here. You’ll deafen everyone._

“My singing is lovely, I’ll have you know.” Tony grumbled, standing up and showing the screen to Loki.

Loki’s room was very much the same as Bruce and Tony’s — maybe tidier. The telly was on, currently showing a German gameshow. Thor was on the top bunk, clunky-booted feet hanging over the end, laptop on his stomach, scrolling through some social networking site. He grunted at the two as a way of greeting. Loki sat on his bed, ducking his head and pulling on his brother’s legs, gaining a, _Fuck you!_ kind of shriek in return.

Tony laughed, also ducking his head to sit next to the younger brother. He opened up the app again, this time typing what he wanted translated: _So, you think I'm cute?_

 _I could have been mistaken. You seem more annoying now._ Loki replied, passing the phone back to Tony. 

Tony nudged the other with his shoulder, _You so think I'm cute._

“Halt den Mund.” Loki nudged him back, closing the app.

Tony took this time to plug his earphones in again, offering one to Loki. They sat there for a while, content to listen to the music and background noises of the TV and Thor’s scrolling. They’re not really sure how it happened, but they ended up holding hands with Loki resting his head on Tony's shoulder, just about to doze off, early mornings not really being his thing. 

That's when knocking came from the door. Thor leaped from his bunk, unceremoniously causing Loki to jerk awake, hitting his head on the bed above. Bruce's voice could be heard from the hallway, but Nat had pushed past Thor, who seemed bemused by the others. 

"Where the hell have you been?" She demanded. 

Tony let go of Loki's hand, "Where haven't I been?" He replied, counting off his fingers, "Went Spain last year, 'Merica the year before — and the time before that I went to Sweden! 'Course father dear didn't come with, that was me and the staff…” Tony trailed off, sensing Natasha wasn't happy. 

Thor had let Bruce and Jane in now, who were both standing awkwardly against the wall, "Tony, we've gotta be in the lobby ready to leave, like, now." Jane said. 

"I packed your bag and lunch." Bruce added, holding up an extra rucksack. 

"Such a sweet wife you are," Tony uttered, getting off from the bed, "See you later, Loki?"

"Ja, auf Wiedersehen Tony." The other replied, waving them out the room.

"Auf Wiedersehen!" Tony called back whilst Natasha closed the door behind them. 

"I don't believe you." Bruce stated as they started walking down to the lobby. 

"What d'you mean?" Tony replied, taking his red puffer jacket from Jane.

"You know what I mean." Bruce chucked Tony his bag, speeding up his pace, "C'mon. Fury's gonna flip his shit if we're any later."

 

* * *

 

The day’s activities seemed to go rather well. The group had been quite solemn touring Sachsenhausen concentration camp and Bruce had asked some well thought of and relevant questions. Of course, walking back to Oranienburg station had caused a slight hiccup in proceedings with Tony and Natasha deciding to have a snowball fight at the expense of the rest of their classmates; it had been short-lived with Fury and Coulson swiftly reprimanding the pair, threatening to have them stay in the hotel for the rest of the trip. That, of course, was a bit harsh and Tony voiced his concern with Jane, who didn’t agree, but didn’t oppose him either and Tony took that as a given. Maybe he shouldn’t have throw that one snowball while Nat was so close to the back of their teacher’s head.

Anyway, they were on the train back to Berlin and once there it would only be a couple of changes until they were arriving into the station next to the hotel.

“I didn’t realise not all of the camps were purely made for murder.” Bruce was saying, “Although, I don’t half feel sorry for those that were in the labour camps. Disgusting really…”

“Yeah…” Jane replied, “Makes my skin crawl just thinking ‘bout it.”

“You alright, Tony?” Bruce asked, nudging Tony’s boot with his own.

Tony looked round at Jane and Bruce, peeling his eyes from the window. He hadn’t really been paying attention to them, too caught up in his thoughts. Nat had her headphones in, oblivious to the world and quite possibly napping.

“Mmm,” he said, “I’m good. I dunno… It’s just what they did to people like me?” Tony fumbled with his coat’s zip, “Like, homosexuality was illegal until ninteen-sixty-nine — although very ironically appropriate. It’s just, I don’t know, Bruce. Forget it. I’m being stupid.”

“Tony,” Bruce implored, “if you’re feeling bad, I want to know why, okay?”

Tony threw his hands up, “It’s just, I don't know, it makes me feel _dirty — unclean_.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Jane said. “There is nothing dirty or unclean or unnatural about your sexual preferences and, Tony, please remember that that — _that monstrosity_ — happened _seventy_ years ago. I know it may have taken twenty more for you to be ‘legalised’ or whatever, but please, please remember that the world isn’t like _that_ anymore. Or, at least I hope to God it is not.”

“I know that, Jane, but thank you all the same. It just makes you think, is all.” Tony tried to shrug it off, wanting nothing more than to steer the conversation to some other direction, “We going up the Bundestag dome tonight?”

“Urh, I think so? Fury said something about having the school group from yesterday coming with us.” Bruce replied.

“Neat. D’you think Loki’d want to catch dinner with us tonight?”

And so, the conversation took a turn down a new lane: Tony feeling far more at ease, petty jabs being made at Bruce, Jane being insightful and dangerously trying to wake up Natasha. It wasn’t long until they’d got back to the hotel and Tony was bounding along the hallway to ask Loki and Thor to join them for dinner, of course dragging Bruce with him as a translator and personal body guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: when Bruce says, "I don't feel half sorry for..." that's a slight double negative -- I suppose it's a British thing(?). It means you feel bad for someone/sympathetic. Like, you're not half sorry, you're double sorry (eh, oh gosh I'm getting flustered. I'm sorRY).
> 
> So, Loki, huh? Lil' bit of sneaky hand holding there. Cheeky (someone stop me).  
> I didn't think I'd be getting a chapter out this week, but I hadn't realised how much I'd written already and, hey, thought I might as well post it. It was a nice place to end, I think.  
> The next chapter, however? I don't know, I have mock exams next week and I'll probably be pretty tired and trying to cram in last minute science/maths/English revision -- not that you guys need to know that? I'll try and update as quickly as possible.
> 
> Again, I apologise for any mistakes in my German and any corrections are greatly appreciated :)  
> And yes, my characterisations are getting increasingly british (well, at least, I think they are).
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading this piece of trash, if you have any questions/ideas/prompts you'd think would fit or something my ask is open on my tumblr: eye-cannot-see.tumblr.com where I'll probably be rebloggin


	4. Cards On The Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, reflections, cheat and a little bit o' frozen ammunition.

Between the two of them it took precisely five misunderstood sentences, three badly acted out charades of eating and a handful of sniggering from Loki and Thor before one of them finally mentioned that as there was two of them they'd probably understand what Bruce and Tony—mainly Tony—was stumbling over to ask.

About twenty minutes later, all six of them were wandering over to the train station: Nat and Jane in polite conversation with Thor, Bruce being badgered by Loki to let him try on his glasses and Tony complaining that he was hungry. Bruce gave in eventually, reluctantly handing over his only vital possession and held onto Tony as not to trip over anything.

Loki squinted, his eyes adjusting to the lenses, "You have really bad eyes." He commented.

"Yep." Bruce agreed, "Not just a fashion statement—unlike someone's moustache."

"Might I remind you that you're partially blind at this moment in time? I could very easily take advantage of that and, oh, s _ay push you in front of a train._ " Tony defended.

"I like your moustache." Loki mumbled, handing back the glasses.

" _See_! See this is why Loki's my favourite!" Tony slung his arm around the taller one's shoulders, causing Loki to crouch slightly to accommodate Tony's lack of height.

Bruce scoffed, "Natasha!" He shouted, "I believe you owe me dinner!"

Nat and the others turned around, "What?" She hollered.

"First contact," Bruce threw his arms in the direction of Tony and Loki, as though he was presenting them to a crowd, "before we've even got to the station."

"He's got you there, Nat." Jane laughed.

"Fine," Nat shrugged, "but I'm choosing."

"I may be a gambling man, but that doesn't mean you can gamble on me." Tony uttered, not really phased from being bet on, "And anyway, when did you even set this wager?"

"When you went to the toilet." Bruce replied simply.

* * *

 

Bruce couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for Loki, whose knees were still bent so Tony didn't have to reach up to wrap his arm around his shoulders, but Loki seemed to be cool with it. They had just gotten to the station, relishing in the slight rise in temperature despite the wind being blown through by numerous and regular trains. Jane had taken Thor's earmuffs, now shouting slightly but excitedly to Natasha about something. Maybe that's why Thor was so loud, Bruce noted, content in watching Tony make a fool of himself in front of the two Germans.

It was then Nat ran. She leapt onto Tony’s back, one arm wrapping round his neck, the other pointing in front and over his shoulder, “To MacDonald's, slave!”

“MacDonald’s?” Bruce groaned, “We had that yesterday!”

“We could have Burger King? I think there’s one here?” Tony suggested, releasing Loki and hooking his arms around Natasha’s legs, giving her the proper support for a piggy-back, “What about shawarma? D’ya think they have that here?—Loki, babes, do you have shawarma in Germany?”

“What the fuck is shawarma?” Loki asked, looking at Tony as though he wasn’t from this planet.

“Nope. Nope. Banner you know the rules. You won the bet, therefore I’m buying you dinner _but I get to choose_.” Nat turned her torso, still on Tony’s back, “We shook on it. And Stark,” she turned back round, “doner kebabs are disgusting there is no way in hell I would choose that.”

“Fine.” Bruce sulked, “Free food’s free food, am I right?”

“Very right.” Tony agreed, “Although, you should know that I’ll end up bargaining off our firstborn daughter and second and third born sons for my meal this evening.”

“You are aware that it’s biologically impossible for us to have children, aren’t you Tony?” Bruce smirked, “Considering that me nor you have a uterus or, say, any female sex organ at all.”

Tony shrugged, “I could buy one, probably—or we could borrow Romanov’s.”

“Neither of you are ever going near my sex organs, ever.” Nat hopped down from Tony, stumbling into Loki, “Sorry! Sorry!”

“She ran him over again!” Jane called.

“Quick! Someone call an ambulance!” Bruce joined in.

“Loki, baby, are you okay? Oh, God please let him live!” Tony wailed, grabbing Loki by the shoulders, pressing his ear into his chest to check his heartbeat.

“I’m fine.” Loki said, confused as to why they had over reacted, “She didn’t hurt me. She’s not very big.”

“Can we go get food now, please?” Jane pleaded.

“Yes, ma’am!” Tony saluted before the six of them continued their trek towards some fast-food restaurant.

Tony and Loki ended up being the last of their group to order food. Thor, Jane, Bruce and Nat were by a table, dragging more chairs over.

“Would you like me to order for you?” Loki enquired, smiling reassuringly at Tony, who looked as though he was about to have a complex.

“Yes, please.” He mumbled, the half put together, half not there translation vanishing off into some distant part of his mind.

Loki nodded, “What would you like?”

“Three cheeseburgers and a coke, yourself?”

“Drei?” Loki’s eyebrow arched, “I think I will have _one_ cheeseburger.”

“Eins?” Tony mimicked Loki’s expression as they were called to order.

Unsurprisingly, Loki ordered their feast effortlessly and, as a way of saying thank you, Tony declared that he would pay. When the other objected, Tony protested, taking Loki’s wallet from him and shoving it in his back pocket uttering, “If you want it back, you’re gonna have to come get it.”Loki shook his head at Tony, gesturing to the cashier, “Go then. Pay.”

The two joined the others a few moments later, Loki holding the tray and Tony standing on a chair decreeing, “Joyous news, Brucey! No biologically impossible future children where bartered for during the transaction!”

Loki placed the tray down on the table, “How would you know? You didn’t understand a word I said.” He said darkly before a toothy grin graced his face and he sat down, unboxing his burger and pushing the others to Tony’s place.

Tony jumped off his chair, “I understood ‘ich möchte’ and ‘Bitte’ and ‘Danke’” he defended.

“Drei Cheeseburger?” Thor questioned, looking at Tony in disbelieve, “How can such a small man eat _three_ cheeseburgers?”

“I’m actually surprised he only ordered three.” Bruce commented.

“Are you on a diet, Stark?” Nat asked, “You only had one yesterday—that was weird.”

“Tasha, dearest, you know my body is the epitome of physical fitness. Bruce, no longer my favourite, am I not allowed to like cheeseburgers?” Tony replied, ripping the top off his straw’s packaging before blowing through the end, causing the rest of the paper to hit Loki in the face.

Loki squirmed at the mixture of air and paper assaulting him, “Stop blowing me, you dumb head.”

“Make me.” Tony replied, continuing to be a nuisance, subsequently causing his new favourite to throw a few fries at him. “Bruce save me! I’m being harassed by greasy edibles!”

“I’m sure you deserve it, honey.” Bruce rolled his eyes at the pair, turning to talk with Natasha as he decided it would be best to leave them to whatever it was they were doing.

Natasha had opened her milkshake again, dipping her fries into it and savouring the salty-sweet taste of potatoes and whatever the hell was in her drink, “Food flirting. Florting? Floording?”

“Quite possibly florting.” Bruce commented, “I believe we are third and forth wheeling here.” He added, nodding to Thor and Jane who had quietly changed to talking and feeding each other chicken nuggets.

* * *

 

Dinner was over soon enough and the senseless-six were bracing the cold evening air on their walk back to the hotel once again, stomachs full with junk food and the dread of having to walk back up all those stairs. Thankfully, that climb up the stairs would have to wait with both of the school group’s teachers scolding them for being late. The reprimands were over shortly after and they were back in the cold, with Tony complaining about his hands being frozen to the core and Bruce telling him it was his own fault for not bringing gloves.

“Excuse you, Banner. I am a Stark and Starks do not wear mittens that our mothers have knitted us, although that would be lovely. We wear sunglasses at inappropriate times and laugh at the cold. Ha! I say, ha ha!” Tony announced.

“Everyone!” Fury’s voice echoed throughout the shoal of adolescents, “The bridge up ahead’s probably icy so stay alert.”

What Tony presumed to be what Fury had just said was uttered by Thor and Loki’s teacher in German. A mischievous smirk graced Natasha’s face as the school groups bundled on to the bridge Tony had seen from the roof top the night before. She ran again, building up speed, before she stopped, slid on her feet and rammed herself into Tony’s back, her balance not being a problem. Tony stumbled and slipped on the ice, landing face first, unable to get his hands out of his pockets fast enough to brace his fall. Loud caterwauling could be heard coming from Bruce, Natasha and Jane, but the loudest of laughter came from Thor, now wearing his slightly hearing-impairing earmuffs Jane had modelled early that evening.

Loki shook his head, keeping back a laugh and holding out his hand to the boy presently crippled on the floor, “Okay?”

“No. I hit my knees—I think they need amputating.” Tony whined, taking hold of Loki’s outstretched palm and being hauled up. He brushed down his coat and jeans, getting rid of the snow and ice, “I can’t possibly walk the rest of the way. Bruce I need carrying”

“Jog on, Stark.” Was Bruce’s answer.

After going through the airport-like security and watching Tony get frisked because his watch flagged the metal detector, the school groups were in the Bundestag dome. The teachers dismissed each class and they were allowed to wander aimlessly around the boundaries of the glass dome. Somehow, Tony and Loki ended up getting separated from the others as they looked out through the glass. They couldn’t see as much as they could the night before on the roof. The dome wasn’t as high up, you see, and the light illuminating the dome caused their reflections to be shown up on the glass. He liked Loki’s reflection, Tony decided. He liked how it was almost opaque and how if he unfocused he eyes slightly he could see behind him, but he preferred not to. He liked how he didn’t have to look _at_ Loki to see his reactions as they talked. He liked watching his expressions and how his grin snaked around his face, starting at his eyes, where they squinted slightly and his eyebrows arched minutely, to where his lips parted, revealing brilliant teeth, and the corners of his mouth curved upwards and the tip of his tongue poked through as he let out a breathy laugh. _God, Stark, snap out of it._

Tony now realised Loki was staring at him, not his reflection. He turned his face to look back, “What?” He asked.

Loki shrugged, leaning his head closer to Tony’s, “Nuthin’” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

Tony’s eyes closed as well and he could almost feel Loki’s lips on his and then—

Loki’s hand was in his back pocket, groping Tony’s arse as he fished out his wallet. Tony’s eye flew open and Loki kissed him on the cheek before pulling his wallet out and smirking triumphantly.

“You lil’ shit.” Tony uttered.

Loki entwined his hand with Tony’s, putting his wallet in his coat pocket, “We should go find the others?”

* * *

 

Back at the hotel and once everyone had got changed into their pyjamas Thor, Loki, Nat and Jane bundled into Tony and Bruce’s room and huddled around the tiny table Tony had positioned by the bed. Jane, Nat and Bruce occupied the stools, one of which borrowed from the room across the hall, whereas Thor, Loki and Tony had squashed onto Bruce’s bunk, crinkling his sheets.

“Two queens.” Bruce said, placing two cards on the pile on the table.

Tony knocked his sunglasses down his nose, looking over the frames at Bruce, “Cheat.”

Bruce smirked, flipping the two cards face-up on the table. Two queens.

“Fucking-bollocks-sod-it-shit.” Tony reluctantly collected the pile of cards on the table, adding them to his and Loki’s shared hand.

“Drei Vieren.” Thor said, restarting the pile.

“Three.” Jane placed her card ontop.

Loki hit his brother, exclaiming in German, _Hey! No—wait! You cheated!_ came up on Tony’s screen.

 _Too late, Jane’s played_. Thor grinned, hitting Loki back.

“Arsch.” Loki muttered, leaning into Tony to look at their cards, “I don’t understand this game.”

“You don’t have to play if you don’t want to?” Jane suggested.

“Four twos.” Nat played.

“I don't know, man. You could play on Temple Run or somethin’?” Tony suggested, handing Loki his prototype Stark Phone.

“Cheat.” Bruce called out.

“Suck my dick, Banner.” Natasha replied, holding up four twos.

“No thanks, it’s rather small.” Bruce took the small pile of cards off the table, “You go, Mr. Stark.”

Tony looked at his cards as Loki laid on his lap, opening up some app, “Er, three nines.” Tony leant across the other, reaching to the table.

Loki propped his feet onto Thor, who asked him something in German, somewhat miffed. Loki’s reply was an indifferent, “Ja.”

Thor huffed and played his card, “Eight.”

“Cheat.” Tony called, absentmindedly playing with Loki’s hair, “I’ve all the eights.”

Thor glared at the two as he picked up the cards. A few more rounds had been played until something about Loki made him snap. He barked at his brother, who replied just as heatedly. They both stood up swiftly, voices raising to almost shouting. They were in each other’s faces and then Thor spat something at Loki. His breath hitched and his brows furrowed slightly, hurt. Loki shoved past his brother and barged out of the room.

Without hesitation, Tony got up, grabbed his coat and trainers and followed Loki out of the door, once again, leaving the others in state of awkward confusion and anger. He ran after him, gripping onto his wrist just as Loki turned the corner to the stairwell. The taller boy yanked his arm free, continuing up the stairs. For the second time in just over twenty-four hours, Tony followed him to the roof, shoving his shoes and coat on as they climbed the stairs.

“You gonna tell me what that was about?” He asked as they passed the sixth floor’s landing.

“Thor’s an ass.” Was the reply.

“I gathered that. What did he say?”

Loki recited Thor’s words in German.

“English, Bitte. You have my mobile, remember?”

“It’s nothing of your concern, Tony.” The boy a few steps in front of Tony sped up, his slippers flopping with every step.

Changing the subject, Tony uttered, “Why the roof?”

Loki stopped, almost causing the other to walk into him, “What?”

“Why the roof? Why d’you go to the roof?” Tony repeated.

Loki turned to face him, the few steps between them making him even taller, “I don’t know? Can’t go anywhere else.” He sat, long legs bent with his feet on the stair below.

Tony sat down next to him, “Does it clear your head or something?”

Shifting uncomfortably and handing back Tony’s phone, Loki replied, _I guess so… I don't know—why am I even telling you this?_

“That, Loki, only you know the answer to.”

 _Why are you here? Why did you follow me?_ Loki asked, turning round to look at Tony.

He shrugged, “Don’t take kindly to people being alone.”

_What?_

Shrugging again, Tony said, “Daddy issues—that’s what Nat called it. I don’t like people being upset or angry on their own. I want to make sure you’re okay and, God. Why am I telling you this? I hardly know you… I just—just tell me if you’d like me to go, because— _goddamn_.” He dragged his hand through his hair, “I don’t want to intrude or make you uncomfortable.”

Loki read over the garbled translation on the screen a few times, taking in what Tony had uttered, _You don’t make me uncomfortable. I make myself uncomfortable._ He held his hand up, stopping Tony from interrupting.

Loki’s answer couldn’t appear on the screen fast enough for Tony, Jarvis unable to work faster than Tony had programmed him: _I make myself uncomfortable with the way I am. I like boys, Tony, and—hell. I know I shouldn’t and I disgust myself and Thor tries to accept it but he can’t. My dad can’t—he’s not even my dad. Tony, I’m wrong—he tells me I’m wrong—and I can’t do anything and they don’t understand that I hate it. I hate myself for it. God, I barely know you, but I’m jealous of you, Tony, and how you just go with it—accept yourself and not give a shit. And I'm sorry if I’ve missed judged that and you don’t like boys and you’re just too nice to tell me otherwise… and I’m going to shut up now, you’re looking at me funny._ Loki turned away, balling his fists and pressing them into his eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall down his face.

“I—Loki… Damn in hell. Loki there is nothing wrong with you—how could he even say a thing…. Actually I know full well how he could say that, but that’s not the point, Loki. Loki you’re not wrong, you’re not disgusting and—Christ—you didn’t misjudge me, it’s fine. We’re fine. You’ve got to understand that there is _nothing_ wrong with you.” Tony grabbed his hands, uncurling his fists and entwining his fingers with his.

Loki sniffed, smiling weakly, “‘M sorry.”

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry about. Trust me, I’ve had one of _those_ before.” Tony smiled back, “Come here.” He held out his arms, bringing Loki into a hug, “What did Thor say to you?”

“I’d rather not say. Can we go to the roof now?”

“You ain’t got a coat.”

“So? I’m German I thrive on brisk temperature and beer.”

“Sounds a lot like the English minus the fish and chips.”

The boys stood up, grinning at each other. Muttering a _Race you!_ Loki sprinted up the stairs, followed by a _Hey! No fair! You’ve got longer legs than me!_ and a Tony, taking the steps two at time to catch up.

* * *

 

Tony arrived to the roof top to find Loki standing on one of the picnic tables, plaid pyjamas bottoms getting soggy at the ankle from snow, slippers already soaked through and a snowball in hand, smirking.

“Don’t you dare—“

The ammunition collided with Tony’s face.

“You lil’ shit! That’s it. You’re so gonna regret—“

Another hit him on the jaw.

“Just you wait. I’ll sue your pretty arse out of all it’s worth—Loki! Seriously! It’s cold—goddamn—fine!”

Tony stooped low, picking up snow in his hands. He compacted it, ignoring his hands protests to the cold, and lobbed it towards Loki, who dodged it effortlessly and threw another snowball at Tony. He didn’t duck far enough, the snow landed on the back of his neck and Tony shrieked, jumping up and down to knock the snow from behind him out, only causing it to fall under his pyjama top and melt, leaving a cold stream running down his back.

“I hate you! I actually swear to God hate you!” Tony shouted, picking up snow and climbing onto the table with Loki.

He grabbed the back of Loki’s shirt and struggled to shove the snow down it as pay back due to Loki squirming and wriggling to get away, “Kalt! Kalt!” Loki screamed, hitting Tony in he stomach.

“All’s fair in love and war. You started it. You pay the price.” Tony smirked, releasing Loki’s shirt.

“Yeah, but you’re wearing a coat.” He defended standing up.

“Shut up.” Tony prodded him in the rib, smirking.

“Make me.”

“Fine.”

Tony reached up, arms wrapping round Loki’s neck and softly pressed his lips to the other’s. He let go and jumped from the table, grinning.

“You’re the little shit, not me, Stark.”

“Oh, Stark is it now?” Tony replied, “C’mon, I’m freezing.” He held out his hand, helping Loki step down from the table before turning to the door and going back down to their hotel rooms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord, did this take a while to write. I'm sorry it's taken its time, but as I said, exam week takes a lot out of a person. I honest to God hope you've enjoyed this and that the wait was worth it? (eh, getting ahead of myself there, aren't I?)  
> ONCE AGAIN I APOLOGISE FOR MY SLAP-DASH GERMAN!  
> Also I feel as though Loki is OOC? But I'm going to ignore it slightly and push to the back of my mind because this is a very ambiguous AU.  
> Any comments are appreciated greatly, and kudos don't go a miss either :)  
> Thanks for reading!


	5. East Side Gallery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost and found, crummy cornflakes, the train game and souvenirs.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Bruce looked up, clicked his pen and put his german diary on the table they had been playing cards on. Thor had left shortly after Tony and Loki, obviously after he had stood awkwardly beside Jane before thinking _fuck it_ and kissing her goodnight. The girls left in a fit of giggles after copying up Bruce's diary entry for the pervious day, laughing at the thought of Tony falling down the stairs or something along those lines.

He made his way to the door slowly, opening it to a sodden Loki and Tony and Tony declaring that Loki was to kip in their room that night. Tony was rummaging through Bruce’s suitcase by now, muttering, “Where are they?” Before, “A-ha! Found them!” He fist-pumped the air, pulling out Bruce’s spare pair of pyjamas.

“And why do you need those?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Brucey, look at him—he’s freezing and they’re not going to dry any time soon!” Tony chucked the pyjamas to Loki, who caught them effortlessly although shivering like a madman, “And, besides, you remember the ol’ bedwetting escapade of ‘o-nine? Your mother, bless her, always packs you extra jammies since you pissed my bed all those years ago.”

Loki snorted as Bruce said, “I thought we agreed to not talk about that?”

“I didn’t—Clint might ‘ave… I don't know, mind, he was pretty pissed off about being pissed on if I remember correctly.”

“Oh, the fond memories.” Bruce clasped his hand together mockingly, “If you need me I shall be on my bunk, listening to my tunes and doing the work.”

Tony saluted him off as Loki spoke, “Can I use your shower?”

 

* * *

After telling Loki what was shampoo and what was shower gel and maybe, just maybe, kissing for a bit, Tony plopped down next to Bruce on his bunk asking for his german work.

“If you could remove your wet buttocks from my dry and clean bedsheets, then sure, but you’ll have to change some adjectives and verbs and times or whatever.” Bruce said, handing Tony his schoolbook and unhooking his headphone because undoubtedly Tony will need help with the adjectival word endings.

“Ay, ay captain!” Tony grinned, starting to copy up his work and sitting on the floor.

A few moments later Bruce asked, “Does Thor know Loki’s here?”

“Chillax, babe, Loki said he’d be cool with it.” Tony brushed of the question, finishing off his sentence, “What’s the verb for shop?”

“Kaufen, I think. Are you sure he’d be cool with it—they did just have a shout-off.”

Tony put his pen down and looked at his friend, “Look, Loki had a bit of an existential crisis on the stairs and—frankly—I don’t really trust Thor.”

Slightly expected, Bruce laughed incredulously, “You don’t trust Thor? Tony, they’re brothers—siblings argue, it’s what they do.”

Tony pursed his lips, “Bruce, you didn’t—“ He looked round at the bathroom door and then sharply back at Bruce, “you didn’t _see_ him. You don’t know what it’s like. No—don’t try and say you understand, Bruce. You don’t get it—you can’t get it. If Loki says Thor’ll be okay with it, can we just go with that?”

Bruce nodded slowly, hating it when Tony pulled the ‘You don’t understand’ card, “Okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Bruce, I’m big enough and ugly enough to look after myself.” Tony smirked.

“Yeah. Maybe with the help of the ten, wasn’t it? Staff your dad hired.” Bruce joked back.

“Sh, father dear pays you well, doesn’t he? Now help me with this load of—“

“Give it here, you ungrateful sod.”

“I love you Brucey. Did I mention that your hair looks extra windswept today?”

“That’s because I've been in the wind today, dumbass.”

Loki appeared from the bathroom a few moments after Tony had finished his work with Bruce’s pyjama bottoms slightly too short for him and the shirt big enough in width but not in length. He stood by the bed awkwardly, “Where should I put these?”

“Give ‘em here I’ll hang ‘em up in the bathroom to dry.” Tony replied, standing and being careful not to hit his head on his bunk above, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower too.”

Tony showered quickly, scrubbing shampoo through his hair and letting the warm water soak over him. He hadn’t realised how cold he was until now. He got out, towelled off, got into his boxers and t-shirt from the day as his pyjamas were no longer wearable and brushed his teeth. As he stepped out of the bathroom he found that the light was off. Cautiously making his way over to the bunk bed’s ladder, he muttered goodnight to Bruce and stubbed his toe on his suitcase. Biting back his pain and trying not to hop around as he’d probably jump on Loki, He climbed to his bunk. Tony crawled to the top-side of his bed to get under the covers, but as he settled down he noticed an object distinctively human laying beside him.

“Oh, so we’re sharing this bed that doesn’t even comfortably fit one person?” He uttered, turning onto his side to try and fit them both.

“Yep. You didn’t think I would sleep on the floor, did you?” Loki replied, yet another smirk gracing his face.

“The thought never crossed my mind.” Tony lied, dipping a kiss to the boy next to him.

“You know I’m cool with Loki staying tonight, but keep it PG up there. I don’t want my innocence corrupted by Tony Stark. Cheers mate.” Bruce hollered above him, rolling back and kicking the mattress above.

“God, Bruce. You make me sound like some sex-crazed hormonal teenager.” Tony hollered back, turning to moodily lay on his back with his hand being flung under the side-rail, hanging just lower than the top bunk.

“Goodnight, Tony and Loki.” Bruce laughed, hitting Tony’s palm before rolling over in his just about comfortable bed.

“Goodnight Bruce.” The two replied, somehow managing to meld themselves into a surprisingly non-organ-restricting jigsaw of body parts.

* * *

They couldn’t have been asleep for that long—twenty minutes at most—that’s what it felt like to Tony anyway. Sleep had a way of distorting time. But unfortunately Tony was dragged out of his dream by some oaf obnoxiously banging their fist on the door. Groaning, he turned on his side away from the door, disturbing the bundle of boy squashed against him. Before the words even formed in Tony’s mouth, Bruce replied groggily: “‘ve got it.” Hauling himself out of his _oh so_ warm duvet and opening the door.

Falling back to sleep was Tony’s very well thought out plan and it seemed like Loki had already had that idea, the slender teen having already adjusted himself where he laid half on Tony, half on the mattress, one leg hooked between the other’s, into a more comfortable position, but the oaf who had knocked on the door had other ideas.

“Have you seen him?” Barged desperately through the room, hammering into Tony’s ear. _Sheesh, the guy could at least whisper._ “I haven’t seen Loki since he stormed out. He’s usually back by now.”

_Crap. Thor._

Begrudgingly, Tony pulled himself into sitting upright, following Loki’s lead as he’d bolted up, just missing the ceiling with his head, as soon as he heard his brother’s voice.

“Urh, yeah. He’s—he’s in here.” Bruce answered, mid yawn.

“Shit.” Loki mumbled. He reached round and hastily crashed his lips to Tony’s before practically jumping from the bunk and exiting the room, leaving Tony in a daze and wondering whether or not he had imagined the whole thing once again.

* * *

Breakfast, a few hours later consisted of Tony and Bruce docilely eating their cardboard flavoured cornflakes. Surprisingly, Jane and Natasha seemed to be just as tired.

“This coffee is just as bad as the cornflakes.” Jane said.

“You still drank it all.” Nat stated, pouring part of her coffee of the cereal for ‘taste’.

“There’s nothing else to drink—pass the sugar.”

Half asleep, Tony slid Jane the sugar, “Bruce, I’m too tired to eat my breakfast, if you could put that little whore mouth of yours to good use and chew my food for me, that would be greatly appreciated.”

Bruce made a half articulate reply, head still rested on the table where he had put it the moment he’d sat down.

“So,” Nat said, wiping her mouth, “What happened after the heroic Tony Stark dashed valiantly after his damsel in distress?”

At this, Bruce perked up, “I don't know what happened but the two of them returned soaking wet and shared a bed for the night— _and_ Tony spent far too long showing Loki how to use the shower despite each room having the _same_ design.” He paused to hush Tony, “I think some raging teenaged hormones might have had something to do with it. Don’t look at me like _that_ , Anthony, babe. You weren’t at all subtle.”

Tony shrugged, “You’re just jealous you were left out.”

“Sure I am, honey.” Bruce uttered, “Hey—wait. Loki slept in my pyjamas.”

“Wait, I’m so confused.” Jane sidetracked, “I thought Loki slept in Tony’s bed?”

“Yeah, he did.” Tony grinned, “But he slept in Bruce’s jammies because his dear old mam always packs more since—“

“ _We agreed not to mention that_!”

“Since the sleepover of o’nine.” Tony finished.

Nat swallowed another pitiful spoonful of cereal, “Why is it,” she started, “that whenever we get onto the subject of Loki, he and his brother always end up walking over to us?”

She motioned her head to the side. The others looked around and sure enough, there were the two brothers walking over to them. Loki with a bundle of pyjamas in his arms and Thor holding two plates with toast on.

“Hey,” Loki said, squashing up next to Tony to fit in the booth.

Thor took one look at the tiny space beside Natasha, thought better of it and pulled up a chair from another table before pushing Loki his toast and taking a bite out of his own, “Morning.” He greeted.

Tony ignored Thor, asking Jane something instead, “Dearest Miss Foster, what are we doing today?”

“Well, Mister Stark, I believe we’re getting on a train—and I advise you to sit down, please for all our sakes—then after a short train journey where you shall be sat on your bum, we’ll go look at the Berlin Wall for a bit, then we’re going to Alexanderplatz and being told to do whatever, then dinner at some pizza place then, I believe, bowling.”

“Delightful, thank you Jane.” Mister Stark replied, “If there’s teams, I call Nat on mine.”

“And what if Nat doesn't want to be on your team?” Natasha asked.

“I will buy you those shoes you don't have enough money for.”

“Okay, fine.”

“I think we’re tagging along with your school again.” Thor spoke, finishing his toast, “Our teacher didn’t plan anything for this day.”

“Well done Herr Selvig.” Loki muttered, “Oh—Bruce? These are yours right?” He reached over Tony to hand Bruce the pyjamas. “Oi!”

“What?” Tony questioned innocently.

“Don’t poke me.”

Tony held his hands up submissively, “I saw the opportunity and I took it.”

“Yeah, we’ve heard all about _your_ opportunities, Tony.” Bruce smirked, taking the pyjamas, “Thanks.”

Loki blushed, “It wasn’t like _that_.”

“What wasn’t like _that_?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“Guys, leave him alone.” Tony uttered, “If your gonna pick on someone, pick on me.”

“Awh! He’s getting all defensive.” Nat cooed, reaching over to pinch the other’s cheek.

Thor cleared his throat, “I’m… Going to get coffee, anyone want some?”

Jane got up, “I do.”

Natasha got out of the booth to let out Jane and after she sat back down Tony mumbled, “Nice job guys, make both of them uncomfortable why don't you.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Loki said, leaning against Tony and taking a bite out of his toast, “It’s just his highness over there.”

The other’s looked over to the coffee dispenser, to find Thor with his arms wrapped around Jane’s waist as she poured the coffees. They were laughing about something and gaining funny looks from others on school trips and the teachers.

“Wait.” Tony said, “Hold up—so he’s allowed to do whatever’s going on between them, but I’m not allowed to accidentally fall on you on a train accidentally?”

“They’re not really doing anything, Tony.” Natasha commented.

“But still, I don’t get pissed off when Thor’s all over Jane.”

“You’re not Jane’s brother?” Loki added.

“People say we look alike, babe.”

“No, they don’t.” Bruce finished, “Shut up and eat your breakfast.”

* * *

“So,” Natasha said, rubbing her hands together maliciously, “Who wants to play the train game?”

“The train game?” Thor asked, crouching down so Jane could replace his earmuffs with her bobble-hat.

“You know, the thing that catapulted Tony into Loki’s lap.” Jane explained, putting the earmuffs around her head.

“Right. Okay, I’ll play.” Thor nodded.

“Me too.” Tony added standing up.

“No!” Jane, Loki and Natasha boomed, gaining glances from other passengers.

Bruce chuckled, “You just sit there and look pretty.”

Rolling his eyes Tony said, “I always look pretty.”

So Tony sat on the sidelines with Bruce, who was apparently above such games—meaning his balance was worse than Tony’s—watching the others surf the train. Thor was out almost instantly, closely followed by Jane, who now sat on his lap as there was only one spare seat. Loki, surprisingly, was rather good at the train game, not affected by any bumps or turns faced by the train and, as it slowed sharply into the last station, he didn’t even flinch when Natasha fell into him, just held up his hands as to soften her fall.

“Oh, my God, _Natasha_. You have _got_ to _stop_ running people _over_!” Tony exclaimed as dramatically as he could whilst he got up to leave the train.

“It’s, like, the _tenth_ time this trip!” Bruce joined in.

“And we’ve barely been here _three_ days!” Tony finished.

Loki just laughed, telling Natasha once again, “It’s fine, you’re not very big.”

She replied with a, “I’m sorry anyway and I demand a rematch on the way back.”

“Can I join in?” Tony preened, batting his eyelids and clasping his hands together.

“If you’re good.”

The school groups crossed the road outside of the station to get to the East Side Gallery, Tony grabbing Loki’s hand claiming that, “You ought to have a road-crossing buddy—look! Thor’s got Jane, Nat’s her doughnut and Bruce is big enough to look after himself.”

“Are you saying I can’t look after myself?” Loki queried.

“No, sir, simply saying I can’t look after myself, is all.” Tony replied, “Plus I forgot my gloves and your hands are warm.”

“Ah, there’s a silver lining for every cloud.”

Once everyone had crossed the road and a brief history of the wall had been told, the Fury and Selvig allowed the two groups of teens to wander up and down, take pictures and waste money buying parts of the wall from the gift shop by a boat hotel.

Needless to say, Nat and Tony sprawled themselves against the wall whilst Jane took photos, getting far too into her role of photographer, “Now give me _fierce_ ,” she was saying, snapping the shutter button on Tony’s Stark Phone, “Tony, that’s constipated try to copy Nat.” She turned the phone diagonally, “Give me tiger—I wanna see those claws, I know you’ve got them.”

Tony and Natasha respectably gave their best tiger impressions, roaring, bearing their teeth and creating claws with their hands. All the while, Loki and Thor stood by the sidelines. Bruce had wandered off, admiring the graffiti adorning the wall.

“Come join in!” Tony called to the brothers, seemingly forgetting his earlier annoyance with Thor.

Loki reluctantly sidled over to Tony, where he was grabbed by the waist and forced to pose. Thor politely declined, claiming that pictures aren’t really his thing.

“Well, if you ain’t going to,” Jane uttered, handing him the mobile, “I will.”

Jane skipped over to the others, pulling the cheesiest, punk-hand-sign pose she could with Natasha, their tongues sticking out Miley Cyrus style. Tony did his iconic peace sign, arm still around Loki, who was grinning like an idiot, despite resting his head against Tony’s. Thor took some photos and Bruce strolled back over, getting collared by Tony and forced to participate in the ‘photo-shoot’. Bruce stood there in the middle of the frame, arms folded and glaring at the camera.

“Do youse wanna buy a piece of the wall?” Nat asked, peeling her gaze from Tony’s phone, where the group had crowded around to look through the photos.

“I look terrible, delete that one.” Jane said.

To which Tony replied, “Nu-uh. I have to keep every single photo taken ever.”

“And you say you’re not sentimental.” Bruce uttered, “Nat, why waste ten euros on a hunk of concrete?”

“Hush it, Brucey, or I’ll break out the pics depicting the aftermath of the sleepover of o’nine.” Tony warned, “And just for that demolishing attack on Natasha, I’m going to buy everyone a hunk of the wall ‘cept you.” Tony locked his phone, pocketing it before hooking Nat by the arm and marching off towards the souvenirs shop.

“I don’t even want a hunk of the wall!” Bruce called hopelessly after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, gosh it's been a while--I'm sorry. I hope you've enjoyed this? I enjoyed writing it, but then I just enjoy writing.  
> Bruce is never going to hear the end of that sleepover, poor thing.
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter won't take its time? I have exams coming up though so it might do :///
> 
> Anyway, as always thank you for reading, comments and kudos are nice ways to make my day and you can find me on eye-cannot-see.tumblr.com if you have any questions (of course you could leave your question below as well).


	6. Cheap Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just your standard line up of train surfing, binge eating, gift giving and selfie taking.

"How many of the bloody things did you buy?" Bruce asked incredulously, raising his eyebrow at Tony who was currently handing out souvenirs. 

Tony shoved his hand back in the plastics bag, rummaging through, "Enough."

" _Enough_? More like the whole freaking shop." 

They were walking back to the train station, everyone aside from Bruce admiring their hunk of wall or shoving it in their rucksacks. _Fun fact_ , Bruce had said, _Rücken is German for back so rucksack is just back-sack._ To which Nat replied, _How is that a fun fact?_ It was coming up to lunchtime, the sun not helping warm the bitterly cold air and wind continuing to harass the school groups. 

"I got a couple for Clint and Pepper, gosh Bruce I'm not a total sleaze." Tony replied, "Hold my bag a sec." He shrugged of his bag, handing Loki the handles, unzipped it and stored the carrier bag inside it all the while walking as not to be left behind. 

"Oh, of course my mistake." Bruce said.

"What about your dad?" Jane asked, one arm linked with Thor's.

Tony shoved his bag back on, "Jane, sweetie, my return home would bring him enough joy."

Nat snorted, "Of course."

"And by that I mean it's easier for him to purposely ignore me. He’s home at the moment, no doubt he’ll jet off as soon as I walk through the door." Tony finished.

"Miss Romanov, could you get off Bruce, please." Coulson's voice rang over them and Nat slid off Bruce's back from where he was giving her a piggy-back.

"But, _sir_ , my _feet hurt_." Nat whinged.

"And I'm sure Bruce's back hurts too." Coulson reasoned.

"Nah, I was carrying his bag for 'im."

Their teacher decided to ignore her, turning to talk with Fury. Bruce crouched down, allowing Nat to jump back up again. 

Nat jumped off from Bruce as they entered the train station deciding that navigating the busy hubbub would be more efficient on her own feet. Back on a train the surfing began again with the others deeming Tony fit to play due to the fact he had bribed them all with pebbles of concrete and a shit-eating grin. Fortunately, he was out of the game even more instantly than Thor had been perviously and decided to slouch against the stoic Loki’s chest for the rest of the journey. Hooking a headphone in his ear and handing the other to Loki, Tony opened up his translation app and typed, _Yo, Loki, bro you all right with Thor now?_

_I suppose? I don't know. This happens frequently._

_Oh, I’m sorry to hear that…_ Tony waggled his thumbs over the keypad before, _Do you like your piece of_ The _Berlin Wall?_ appeared in german on the screen.

_It’s lovely. I do think Bruce was right though: it was kinda a waste of money._ Loki replied.

Tony turned around so fast it yanked the headphone from Loki’s ear, “It was a brilliant purchase!”

“Fünfundvierzig Euro!.” Loki exclaimed, “Tony du bist verrückt!

“I’m hurt.” Tony turned to Natasha, pouting, “Loki’s hurt my feelings.”

“Good.” She uttered. 

“Jane, Nat _and_ Loki have hurt my feelings.”

“I concur with Nat—good.” Was Jane’s reply.

“But—but—I bought you a pice of _the_ Berlin Wall!” Tony reasoned.

A round of slow, sardonic applause sounded from behind the group, “Mr Stark. If you would reframe from making a fool out of yourself, that would be great.” Fury said, “And pay attention, we’re getting off at the next station.”

 

The two school groups stood in the middle of Alexanderplatz, huddled together in thick winter coats that in Tony’s opinion didn’t really keep anyone warm ( _they just get in the way, Tasha)._ After an initial safety briefing spoken in both English and German, and being told to be back at the train station for three thirty, the students were allowed to explore the plaza.

The six shuffled into a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts, mainly to get out of the cold but also because it was nearing lunch time and that was the closest place for food—especially when there’s a borderline hungry Natasha Romanov demanding to be fed involved. They sat on two minuscule round tables meant only for four but now harbouring six as they drank piping hot coffees and Thor and Natasha each devoured a dozen box of doughnuts each whilst the remaining four ate twelve between them. 

“Even if I don’t finish ‘em all—which I will—“ Natasha said, mid-mouthful, “I can always shove ‘em in my back-sack,” she nudged Bruce and swallowed, “and eat ‘em as we do whatever for the rest of the day.”

“What ones did you even get?” Jane asked, taking the plastic lid off of her coffee and dipping her doughnut in it.

“Six glazed, double choc, chocolate glazed, two Boston cream, strawberry frosted and vanilla frosted and out of them all so far I've eaten one cream and both of the chocolate ones. Tony pass the napkins?” Nat replied, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“And here youse all thought _I_ eat a lot.” Tony commented, haphazardly throwing Nat her paper napkin.

“You did have three cheeseburgers…” Jane mentioned.

“Thor’s eaten over half of the doughnuts he bought already! Why’d you always pick on me!” Tony whined.

“He only ordered glazed ones.” Bruce reasoned, pushing up his glasses.

A collection of _‘ah’s_ resonated about the group and Thor scoffed another doughnut.

“Außerdem ist er viel größer als du.” Loki added, nonchalantly sipping his coffee. 

Tony’s phone vibrated against the table, **JARVIS: _ALSO HE IS A LOT LARGER THAN YOU_** , appeared in his notifications.

“Well, bugger me. I would have never guessed.” Tony said stuffing his face with his last doughnut. After eating it he said, “I think we should head over to that Primark over there. Love me some new jammies.”

 

“Ah, yes… A Minions onesie… That is _exactly_ the clothing item to add to your ever growing collection of BDSM commodities.” Tony mentioned, rummaging through the hangers finding Bruce’s size.

“I don’t have a shame kink, honey, but I’d be down if you were wearing it.” Bruce replied, actually looking at suitable sleepwear. 

Surprisingly to Tony, the clothes store was just the same as it was back home, over stocked, over heating and bizarrely laid out. He had expected lederhosen and foot-high beer mugs adorning the place. Thor had gone off with his brother to search for something—Tony hadn't caught what they said.

“Remind me to give Loki back his pyjamas later.” Tony stated as the girls returned for the women section, Natasha’s basket piled high with socks. 

“You took his pyjamas and his virginity? God, Anthony, you barely know him.” Nat said, handing her basket to Bruce so he could put his PJs in, “Don’t leave them alone in the bathroom, Bruce. You should know that.”

“I didn’t take his virginity. All we did was kiss for a bit.” Tony defended, hanging the onesie back on the rack, “And for the record, despite my womanising qualities, I’m a virgin. I don't know about Loki though.”

 

They were to leave for the restaurant at half six, finish the meal about nine, then spend the last few hours of the evening bowling. It was nearing four o’clock now and Loki had gone off with Tony to get back his now dry pyjamas. 

“Danke.” Loki smiled, taking the clothes. “I bought you something when we were in Primark.”

“You did?” Tony questioned, a puzzled look appearing on his face as he tried to recall seeing Loki with a shopping bag.

“Uh, huh.” Loki pulled a pair of gloves out of his coat pocket, speaking in German. _As a thank you for all the stuff you’ve done for me the past couple days. Buying me dinner. Playing with my hair during the card game—that felt really nice. Following me after I’d shouted at Thor and making me feel better. Allowing me to throw snowballs at you. Letting me stay part of the night in your room—I really appreciate that, Tony. I wasn’t ready to go back in and see Thor just then. Thank you._

Loki gave the other the gloves and Tony replied, “You didn’t need to get me anything…”

“I wanted too.” Loki shrugged, “You said your hands were cold.”

Tony chuckled, “Yeah, but that was just an excuse to hold your hand.”

Leaning forward, Loki softly pressed his lips against Tony’s, “You didn't need an excuse.”

“Do I need an excuse for this?” Tony kissed the taller boy, pushing him back so they were both laying on Bruce’s bunk. 

The kiss started off slowly and sweetly, but both parties soon realised they’d been waiting most of the day for a moment like this. Loki tasted like strawberry chapstick, Tony noted as his tongue was exploring the other’s mouth. He pulled away slightly to share his findings.

Loki laughed, replying, “And you taste like cheap coffee.” before continuing the kiss and subsequently brushing the roof of Tony’s coffee flavoured mouth with his tongue.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Tony muttered between breaths, smiling against the other before his lips started wandering down to Loki’s jawline and to his neck, where he started work on a series of hickeys, rubbing his tongue over the blemishes to soothe them afterwards.

They had either been kissing for ten minutes or over an hour. Time was’t really apparent and that was fine by them. What wasn’t fine, however, was being interrupted by a rapping at the door. 

Bruce’s muffled voice came under the door, “Tony, c’mon open up! You’ve the only key card.” 

Tony leant back against the pillow, groaning in annoyance, with Loki now gently pecking his cheek muttering something. Tony’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Fishing it out he read: **JARVIS: _MAYBE IF WE’RE QUIET HE’LL THINK WE’RE NOT IN HERE AND LEAVE._** Tony smiled again, idly running his fingers through Loki’s surprisingly glossy hair, “Hopefully.”

“Tony if you don't get your pert little bum to this door in the next five-seconds, that’s it I’m calling my lawyer and filing for divorce.” Bruce rapped his knuckle against the door again, “Any anyway, I know you’re both in there. We’ve been across the hall playing cheat—Thor’s gotten pretty good at it.”

Tony groaned again and went to open the door, finding a Loki holding onto his hand hindering his ability to move much further than a foot. Taking his hand and planting kisses up Loki’s arm, Tony asked the taller boy to turn the TV on and climb up to his bunk. Loki sprang up from the mattress, smoothing down his top and pulling his hair into a ponytail. He grabbed the TV remote on his way up as Tony opened the door to Bruce, all smiles and niceties. “A divorce? Really Brucey? What about the kids? Clint and Tasha would fall apart if they found out.” 

“ _Please_ , Nat’s been on our case for a divorce since the moment she barged into our lives.” Bruce concluded, walking past Tony into their room, “I wanted to freshen up before dinner. I suggest you do the same. Your hair’s a mess.”

 

It was now quarter past six and Tony was in his bathroom re-gelling his hair. It was the only thing he had to do other than grab his coat. The others were in his and Bruce’s room doing the write up for the day so far. Bruce had suggested writing up the pizza and bowling over breakfast the next morning; Jane had suggested going to the lobby ten minutes earlier than expected as she didn’t want to them all to be late again. Nat agreed on behalf of herself and Tony to both sentiments. 

With one last carding through his hair, Tony was finished. No one, apart from Bruce, would ever know he and Loki had been making out. Coming out of the bathroom Tony grabbed his duffle coat, shoved on his trainers and pocketed the gloves Loki had gifted him, “We off or what then?”

And off they were, meeting Loki and Thor halfway down the stairs as one of the brothers were tying their shoe. Fury seemed overwhelmed that Tony Stark of all people could actually be punctual, _You keep this up, Stark_ , their teacher had said, _and I might have to discredit a couple of your after schools._ To which Bruce and Natasha found themselves snorting at such an ambiguous fantasy. 

 

The pizzeria was cosy, as Bruce had put it politely. Although the first thought that ran through Tony’s head was, _Fuck me—it’s tiny. How’s Thor gonna fit on a table with us?_ Somehow they managed it, and although Jane was sandwiched quite snugly between Thor and Natasha, she seemed content and they were all enjoying themselves. Both school groups teachers’ were still confused how or why the six of them had gotten on so well and formed a group of their own, but decided to embrace it. 

“I want you all to order in German.” Fury informed his class, “And, no, you’re not allowed to ask your new friends for help. It’s all on you.”

“He didn’t say I couldn't use this.” Tony uttered, waving his mobile to his friends.

Bruce rolled his eyes, “It didn’t need saying, you twit.”

Tony pouted, “Natasha… Jane… Bruce’s words’ve hurt me again.” 

“There, there, Stark.” Nat cooed, reaching over the table to pat his cheek

“Don’t you dare.” Bruce warned.

“Would a Make It Up To Tony Selfie help your current dismay?” Jane questioned the now lip trembling sixteen year old with a terrible excuse of a moustache, who nodded.

“No!” Bruce moaned, dragging out the ‘O’ for far longer than necessary. 

It was all in vain though. Tony had opened the camera on his phone and passed it to Jane, who gave it to Thor, who was telling them all to squish in. The shutter sounded and the phone was passed back to its owner. There on the screen was Jane and Thor both doing duck faces and peace signs; Natasha grinning her head off, leant over the table doing bunny ears behind Bruce’s head; Tony kissing Loki’s cheek (the proper way without tongues and saliva); Loki, a bright shade of pink, looking like a doe in caught in headlights; and finally Bruce, who looked sullen and pissed off like usual, glasses falling down his nose and arms folded. For someone who hated Make It Up To Tony Selfies, he sure knew how to strike a pose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry. It's been well over a year now since my last update. I know, I know, I'm terrible. BUT I might have a decent excuse? Okay, so may last update I mentioned exams (they went good! I got As and Bs in all all my subjects! I swear I was going to fail chemistry), but what I didn't mention was that my family and I were in the process of moving to the US! So last summer I was spending as much time as I could with my friends before we left. Then, as well as being distraught about leaving so many wonderful people behind, I was thrown into JUNIOR YEAR (AP classes... SATs... Senior Project proposals... ew). Anyway, I've had a really tough time adjusting to the American school system--I had classes with obnoxious freshmen it was weird. Plus making friends was difficult as I was hung up on the people back home. BUT SCHOOL IS DONE NOW UNTIL NEXT YEAR! I SURVIVED! I FINALLY WROTE ANOTHER CHAPTER! 
> 
> I'm really sorry it took so long. I've been wanting to continue it for ages but I kept putting it off because I wasn't learning German anymore--which wasn't the best idea as the longer I put it off the less German I could remember??? Well done @ me
> 
> ANYWHO-- I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoyed it! Maybe, just maybe, it might have been wort the wait?


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